


together, at the end of days

by wordsmith_extraordinaire



Category: The Broken Earth Series - N. K. Jemisin
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmith_extraordinaire/pseuds/wordsmith_extraordinaire
Summary: “I-” Nassun has difficulty finishing; she tries again. “Don’t go.” The words are thick and stumbling when she forces them around the lump in her throat.Schaffa sighs, not annoyed, never annoyed, but tired, again. It’s too quiet. He does not have an answer, but Nassun does not expect one.Goodbyes are hard.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	together, at the end of days

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished the Broken Earth Trilogy and I loved it so much that I just had to write a fanfic.
> 
> enjoy!

He is tired. Nassun can see it, and maybe once in another life she would be foolish enough to hope, but now she is not afraid to admit he’s dying.

Schaffa, _her_ Schaffa, is _dying._

She is not afraid of anything, not anymore, but the thought of living without him still settles in the pit of her stomach, dense and dreadful and wrong.

Nassun is so tired, so tired. She’s young, but she’s killed many, lived a thousand years and more in the span of no time at all. Her shoulders ache with the unseen burden of a crumbling world that she did not destroy. It does not matter that she might have, maybe, made it better; she failed. She wanted to save Schaffa, even if that meant (and it did) wiping out herself and every other living thing. As a stone eater, at least, he would not have to die; no one would have to die and they could live together…

together.

Maybe it is better that she failed, maybe Schaffa does not want to keep on existing for years and years, but Nassun is selfish. He loved her, loves her, and she has only him left. Uche, gone. Jija, gone. Essun, her mother, gone. She did not even know her mother, only knows what has shown through in herself.

She’s not sure she ever wants to know more.

Nassun’s head is next to Schaffa’s on the pillow. She can feel the weight of his hand over hers, her only one. His black hair is silvered like the magic that one lived within him.

“Schaffa?”

“Yes, little one?” His voice is painfully fragile; his icewhite eyes are locked with hers in a stare that is no longer sharp, but mellow, tamed, _calm_ in spite of the loom of death over his shoulder.

“I-” Nassun has difficulty finishing; she tries again. “Don’t go.” The words are thick and stumbling when she forces them around the lump in her throat.

Schaffa sighs, not annoyed, never annoyed, but tired, again. It’s too quiet. He does not have an answer, but Nassun does not expect one.

Goodbyes are hard.

Again, selfishly, she thinks of how she could have avoided this goodbye if only she were stronger.

At least Schaffa’s death is not a painful one. His breaths are not rattling, but simply shallow, whispery and soft, blowing on her cheek. Nassun pulls closer, wraps her arms around him, rocks back and forth.

They lie there for a while. Nassun floats in and out of a hazy state that is not sleep, but something else, unknown. She feels his lips brush against her forehead once, twice, three times, tender and kind.

She does not know when he left, but later, minutes or hours or years gone by, she feels a hand on her shoulder that is too sure and firm to be his, and she _knows._

It’s Tonkee. They don’t say anything to each other, but Tonkee offers a sad smile through the darkness of the early morning that Nassun cannot bring herself to return.

~~~

She does not sleep, but walks the streets at a slow pace. She passes by the statue of her mother and her own hand by its side. She sits, cross-legged, next to it, and closes her eyes.

~~~

Nassun is alone now, truly. There is a heaviness in her chest that feels like sadness, but it feels as though there is a wall stopping her from feeling it. She wants to feel it, wants to cry, but she’s far too old for that.

Still, there are surprises. As the Moon and stars fade into the tentative light of dawn, a single tear makes a track down Nassun’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and/or comments would be much appreciated!


End file.
